Conclusion
by BlackPaperMoon82462
Summary: "It appears that our first resident of Wammy's House, A, has committed suicide in his room." Emotionless. Tactless. Just the way that bastard always was. But that isn't why I began to hate his miserable, holier-than-thou, sugar-rotted guts. The reason? He was lying. Debatably non-female OC. No romance.
1. Chapter 1

**9/19/13**

**Rating: T for repeated swearing and mentions of suicide, murder, and such.**

**Pairings: If you squint and tilt your head a bit... you'll just look like an idiot. Seriously, there is no romance whatsoever.**

**Updates: This story is already finished, and it should have five chapters total. I'll update weekly, hopefully on Thursdays.**

First, let's get one thing straight: I'm not writing this for your entertainment or my betterment, so don't expect me to crack jokes or come to some amazing and life-changing realization in the end. Second: this won't have a happy ending. I'll tell you right now, things get pretty shitty for me. I wouldn't be writing this if it all turned out sunshine and rainbows. Now that we have that straightened out, I'll get to the point.

L is an asshole. I know a lot of people who would agree and a fair few who would disagree, so I'll explain my reasoning. Lucky you. I'll start with the basics.

As far as I'm concerned, my name is C. Translation: that's my alias. I was the third and final orphan in the first generation of potential successors for that asshole -I mean L, the greatest three detectives in the world all wrapped up into one _charming_ package. (Did you see the eyeroll that went with that, because I meant it.) And if you're reading this, I'm guessing you already know A and B, so I'll skip the whole 'introducing them' bit. Yeah, I know: A, B, and C. Haha. But actually, the letters were just a coincidence; our real names all actually start with A, B, and C. Will I tell you my real name though? No.

Anyway.

A and B. Alternative, Backup, and me, Conclusion. The thing is, L couldn't have possibly picked a better trio of orphaned genii to solve crimes together than the three of us. And the hilarious part is, he didn't even have a clue. Which is why he made the crucial mistake of trying to pit us against each other. Normally, that tactic would have gotten us to compete to out-do each other, do to our incredibly competitive natures, but if we had worked together instead... Shit, we would have been virtually unstoppable. The three of us could each do something... unexplainable.

Now, before you say I'm nuts and quit reading, hear me out. The way I found out about B's 'specialty'—and arguably the only reason I found out A's power as well—is quite simple, yet no less shocking or unbelievable. B messed up.

...-...-...-...-...-...

_I burst into A and B's room at seven o'clock on the dot, slamming their door open with much more force than needed, as always. I was greeted with the usual sight of A sitting on his bed, finishing getting ready for classes, and B, who had his head buried under his pillow in an attempt to block out the sunlight._

_After nodding at A, I looked over at the lump of blankets that I knew to be B and said in the chipper-est, chirpy-est, most irritating voice I could muster, "Good morning, BB!"_

_I received muffled swearing and the cursing of my very existence in reply._

_With a fake pout and a quick smirk in the direction of the quietly snickering A, I silently padded over to the side of B's bed and swiftly shoved him onto the cold ground._

_Tearing himself out of the mess of blankets and glaring at me from beneath his tangled black hair, B growled, "Damnit, Char-" before he abruptly closed his mouth, his crimson eyes widening slightly._

_The three of us stared at each other silently for a moment. A was the only one who wasn't certain what B had been about to say, but it didn't take a genius to guess that it had been a name. My name. No one knew my name. Not Roger, nor Wammy. Not even L. I could count on one hand the amount of times I'd even spoken it out loud, let alone _told_ anyone._

_"How do you know that name?" I asked darkly, dangerously, staring down at my fellow orphan._

...-...-...-...-...-...

And because B had no way of weaseling out of that one, he was forced to admit that he could see the names of everyone he met, written right above their heads. But if you're reading this, I'm guessing you already know about B's eyes. The thing that you are most curious about is, '_What is C's ability then?_'. Well, there is a reason why BB couldn't get away with saying he'd read my name in one of Roger's files or something; that explanation was a lie.

Ever since I learned to speak and understand English, I've always known when someone told a lie.

_'You're such a good child.' 'Mommy loves you, dear.' 'Your mother just had to go away for a while, that's all.' 'You don't have to go to the orphanage if you don't want to.' 'Hello, my name is Watari.'_

Lies.

But enough about my tragic past that lead to me ending up in Wammy's House. I'm sure you want to know about what was special about A. I'll tell you right now, _everything_ was special about A. The kid _radiated_ good-will and cheerfulness. It was, quite frankly, impossible to hate him. God knows B certainly tried. And failed rather spectacularly, considering the fact that the three of us were best friends. A was a rare kind of person who seemed to outshine the sun, but without the annoying side-affect of being _too_ bubbly.

You never would have guessed that Fate had stuck him with one of the worst abilities it could think of.

See, A was an empath, meaning he could see the emotions of anyone within reasonable distance of him. Not so bad. Maybe a few issues about which emotions were his, but not so bad, right? The problem was, A didn't see any of the _good_ emotions. Hate, jealousy, grief, and unbearable sadness swirled around him constantly. He once described it to me as seeing a rainbow cloud surrounding everyone, but not the pretty fairy-tale kind. He said it was more like someone had left the corpse of a rainbow draped around everyone's shoulders, and the worse their emotions, the more rotted the intangible cloud of colors was.

Add that to the fact that he was at an _orphanage_, literally surrounded by kids with tragic histories, and I'm frankly surprised he didn't snap and kill everyone in sight.

Just himself.

Maybe.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

Shit, there's no other way to explain it; the sun got _darker_ the day It happened. BB had been missing all day, and I sometimes wonder if he somehow knew, but that's crazy. I was sitting in my room when Roger came in with a serious expression, and for a moment I wondered if B had stolen all the jam from the fridge again and Roger was trying to get me to rat out on him.

That was the first and only time I ever wished somebody had lied to me.

**Ongoing challenge: has anyone noticed anything odd about the way I've described C?**

**Review to tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**9/26/13**

**Disclaimer: B would have won if I owned Death Note.**

So enough with all that back-story shit. Time for the main event: how I learned that L is, in fact, an asshole, and what I decided to do about it.

See, the first time I met L, was the day A died (or not). I guess he'd been meeting with Roger or some shit that day, because it was him who spoke to the entire orphanage after we'd been crammed into the cafeteria for the announcement.

"_It appears that our first resident of Wammy's House, A, has committed suicide in his room._"

Bland, emotionless, tactless. Just the way the asshole always was. (That was actually how we all knew he was actually L, despite never having seen him before; computer and voice-scrambler or no, you can't mistake that monotone.) But that isn't why I began to hate his miserable, holier-than-thou, sugar rotted guts.

The reason then?

_He was lying._

Then the questions hit me. If not suicide, what happened? Did someone kill him? Why would L cover it up? But what if I was jumping to conclusions? A quick analysis discovered that there were three things in that sentence that could be lies: 'first resident of Wammy's House', 'committed suicide', and 'in his room'. Maybe there was a secret resident _numero uno_ who had been such a failure that they'd started over. Maybe A'd been in an accident that they didn't want to admit to. Maybe he'd killed himself somewhere public, but they didn't want to scare the younger kids. Maybe it was some combination, or a completely different situation altogether.

But something in my gut was telling me that someone killed A.

I had to figure out who, and why. I already knew that Roger didn't know about the circumstances of A's death because when he had told me about the suicide, he'd been telling the truth (or what he thought was the truth, anyway. Opinions, beliefs, and sarcasm were tricky when it came to my power). So that left L, and possibly Wammy. Now don't start thinking about how noble I am to have wanted to avenge A's death and find his murderer and all that bullshit: I'll be the first to say I'm one selfish motherfucker. A was one of the incredibly few people I call friends, but as absolutely approachable and cheerful as A was, his death didn't really affect me. I'd grown used to people dying all around me. I was in Wammy's fucking House, home of tragic genii, for god's sake. People leaving me was a key part of my childhood. So A was one amazing son of a bitch, and I mourned him and shit, but that wasn't why I was determined to figure out his death. That wasn't why I was going to take down the world's three greatest detectives.

I just _really_ hate liars.

Ergo, lying about A's death (because, I'll admit, that _was_ at least a small part of why I was doing it as well) pretty much put L at the tippy-top of my shit list. So first, I'd get the truth about A's death, and second, I'd _destroy_ that asshole.

At least, that was the plan.

...-...-...-...-...-...

_The first thing I did was go to A and B's room, but B had already taken off to go on a murdering spree _(though I didn't know that at the time, of course)_ and A was... well. I remember entering the room, only to find it completely empty except for two beds with no sheets on them. Then my eyes fell on a small black voice recorder, laying on B's old bed._

_Despite my growing unease at L's lie and B's disappearance, I grinned a bit when I saw the recording device. With most people, I had to see their face to know when they lied, but if I'd been around a person, like B for example, long enough, I could tell just by voice. B knew this, and used it to our advantage. Even though I hated _(and still do hate)_ liars above anything else, I knew it was just to use as a code. I played the recording._

_"Hey C," the recording said slowly, so that I would be able to tell what was a lie and what wasn't, "I know about A's suicide," (_Truth. So B didn't have the same suspicions about A's death that I did._) "and I'm sorry I couldn't be there for him. Or you, for that matter." (_Guilt. Was he going to avenge A's death somehow? Did he blame L for A's supposed suicide? Or himself? And that last bit; was he also guilty about something involving me?_) "I just can't stay there anymore," (_True._) "because his memory would haunt me." (_Bullshit. There was another reason._) "I'm planning on travelling around a lot, and I think I'll start going to church." (_Was he _trying_ to let everyone know he was lying? And wherever he was going, he was going to stay there for a while._) "Y'know, pray for his soul, find god, go to the angels, all that." ('Go to the angels'_? Why was that true? Was B planning on killing himself?_) "I know you don't believe though, so I guess you can't follow me down this road." (_Wherever he was going, he didn't want me to go find him._) There was a pause, even longer than any of the other pauses had been. "...I'll miss you, C. See you around."_

_The recorder slipped through my fingers and clattered to the ground as I stared blankly at the wall in front of me, feeling a weird prickling sensation behind my eyes. Was I... crying? Shit, that was ridiculous. Crying was for new kids at the orphanage. Crying was for the weak. Why would I be crying because of two sentences?_

...-...-...-...-...-...

Two sentences.

One the truth, the other a lie.

Two sentences told me I'd never see BB again.

**Since a couple people have noticed already, I'll ask: what gender do you all think C is, and why?**


	3. Chapter 3

**10/3/13**

**A/N: So I recently discovered that the summary for Conclusion became jacked up when I published this story. *facepalms* I'm surprised anyone read this when the summary was that messed up.**

**Disclaimer: Light would have been far less crazy in the end if I owned Death Note.**

Fast forward a year or two. I never really bothered to keep track once I left Wammy's. The criminal responsible for the Los Angeles BB Murder Case, Beyond Birthday, had been apprehended by the great detective, L. (And figuring out that 'go to the angels' meant 'go to Los Angeles' made me laugh for an hour straight. That cocky little shit.) I sent BB some strawberry jam whenever I could do it without fear of that asshole (L, in case you hadn't realized) tracking me down.

Which was, ha, pretty often. You don't go to St. Wammy's Home for Wayward Evil Genii without learning a thing or two about hiding. I like to think it irritated L, or Lawliet, as B once told me.

I thought about busting B out of jail once his burns had healed, but I planned on waiting until I'd taken L down. L was (and it pains me to say this, it really does) the only person who could possibly track us down, so I had to be almost invisible; having B would be a liability, no matter that he could take care of himself. But if I could get to L, and maybe get ahold of his resources, I could wipe B's (or Beyond Birthday's, I guess) name off the map. He could walk around as a free man.

But enough about that. I bet you're wondering what I did for that year or so, huh? Simple. I bribed, threatened, and blackmailed everyone. And I do mean _everyone_. At least, everyone important.

It's amazing the things you can do when you're a human lie-detector.

Cue the evil laughter.

And now you're wondering how this could help me get to L. Well, the police in every country will usually help L out when he's working on a case in said country. And in, say, the United States, who do the police ultimately answer to? The President. And when Mister Pres. tells you not to help L, well, there's not much you can do after that. (Did you know he once caused a _massive_ oil spill off the coast of California that the feds covered up? The _shame_. If that ever got out, he wouldn't be re-elected! Wouldn't it be just _awful_ if that landed in the hands of some blackmailer?)

Now imagine that same scenario, but in _every country_. Suddenly, Lawli's getting no backup unless he buys it, which is no problem for him, but it's suspicious enough to stoke his curiosity.

I still like to amuse myself by imagining L staring at his computer, narrowing his panda eyes and trying to figure out why every country in the world is doing the equivalent of looking away and whistling innocently.

Ha, this part of the story always makes me want to cackle evilly and rub my hands together like some cheesy villain in a movie. Which, coincidentally, I don't think is helping with my current situation. Sitting and cackling maniacally while scribbling in a little black book is generally not what one considers 'sane'. But no matter. It's not like I'd be able to go anywhere anyway, even if I were sane. But back to the story.

So there I am, pretty much in control of the free world, in possession of more money than I could ever hope to use, and possibly capable of bringing _the_ L to his _knees_, if I were to try hard enough. What to do, what to do. Naturally, I sent L an email.

...Shit, woah, calm down. I was never trying to beat L, or create an unsolvable case, or administer justice, or become god or some stupid shit like that. I was doing it for myself, and maybe for revenge in honor of A. 'Winning' wasn't in my game plan. I just had to be in the same room as him and make him tell me what he did to A. After that, well, I had a plan, but I'll leave that until later to build suspense and all that shit.

Back to the email. Let me tell you, hacking into Wam- I mean Watari's phone wasn't easy, especially since I'd never been particularly good at it; hacking had always been A's forte. It was a clumsy job, too, so L would be able to trace my computer in a heartbeat (It's a shame that it 'fell' off the balcony shortly after I sent the email), but I did my job.

_hey, Long time no see, LAwLipop! we need to hAve A ChAt, no ALternAtive. y'know, CAtCh up. i heArd you hAven't Been getting Any heLp from your friends, wAnnA tALk ABout it? you hAve, sAy, roughLy five minutes to trACe my LAptop Before it gets hit By A truCk, And then Another hour to get here. Come into the BuiLding ALone, no BACkup._  
_ConCLusion_

So you're probably thinking I'm suicidal right about now, huh? You might be right. Hey, no one ever accused me of being entirely sane, especially at that time, since I no longer had A and B to keep me grounded.

But see, that email was mostly full of reading-between-the-lines and double meanings to let L know that I was really who I claimed to be and that I had info that he wanted.

Just from a glance, L would have known that it involved him, me, A, and B because of the capital letters. His suspicions about A and B being involved would have been confirmed when he saw the words alternative and backup used, but from the context, he had also likely deduced that it was just me: no Alternative, no Backup. I also knew his real name and likely knew why the countries were no longer supporting him. He would have calculated an 82% chance that I wanted to trade this information for something (13% that I was just luring him in to kill him, and 5% chance of some other unknown plan). There was a 71% chance that, information trade or not, I wanted to kill him. 35% that I would actually try to kill him, because I'd always been put off by killing when I was at Wammy's. I'd preferred cases to do with robberies and kidnappings.

Meanwhile, I was making my own percentages. I wagered 99.9% that he would figure out all of the hidden meanings of my email (0.1% because even genii have bad days). It was 86% that L would bring backup, regardless of my warning. If he did bring his bodyguards, there was a 93% chance that they would be Aiber and Wedy, L's favorite criminal helpers. But, he would definitely leave the duo in the lobby of the hotel at least, because he couldn't let the opportunity slip through his fingers.

I popped open a strawberry soda (A and B seemed to have influenced my taste more than I'd like to admit. B's unholy obsession with strawberry jam and A's borderline religious love of Coca-Cola apparently combined to give me an insatiable thirst for strawberry soda.) and sat back on the couch, intending to take a bit of a nap before L arrived.

I glanced around the room (paid for by some company bigshot. You'd be surprised how many CEOs are pedophiles, and how much they're willing to pay to keep you quiet.) and grinned slightly. Everything was going just as planned.


	4. Chapter 4

**10/10/13**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Death Note, Naomi Misora would have died a nobler death.**

I'd like to say that everything continued to stay neatly within my plans and estimates, but sadly, things took a sharp left turn rather quickly.

...-...-...-...-...-...

_L and I stared blankly at each other, sizing each other up and scanning for any noticeable weaknesses or faults (and L really did look like B, how interesting). __Apparently finished with his analysis, L stated simply, "You know my name."_

_"I do," I responded with an equally blank face. "A didn't kill himself."_

_Charcoal grey eyes widened marginally, confirming my suspicions, and I knew I'd struck gold with my bluff. A wide, slightly triumphant grin slipped onto my face. "And to think," I exclaimed, "we haven't even mentioned half of what we're here to talk about!" I gestured to the sitting area. "Shall we?"_

_Once we were both seated (with L in an odd yet somehow unsurprising position), L restarted our little game of stating blunt facts and/or educated guesses (the purpose of which was purely to get a feel for the situation and answer some basic questions; we both already knew what the meeting was about). "This involves Alternative and Backup."_

_I nodded. "You want to know why the countries are refusing to aid you."_

_L made an agreeing sound and put his thumb into his mouth while he thought for a moment. "...89% chance that all of these facts are somehow directly related."_

_"Yes," I confirmed. "So, how are we going to do this? We both know neither of us will simply reveal our hand."_

_"Yes, that would be rather idiotic."_

_I hummed softly in agreement. "How about this: I'll ask about A's supposed suicide, and then you can ask about either the countries or how A and B are involved in this scheme. And we can see where we go from there. Good?" I just needed him to talk about what happened to A. Lies or not, I'd be able to gather the truth._

_"Why does C get to ask first?" L asked petulantly, letting some of his childishness shine through. The childishness didn't cover up the calculating glint in his eye though. The manipulative little asshole was observing and dissecting my movements, posture, and body language while simultaneously going over my words, tone, and inflections, searching for any hidden meanings or signs of lying. _

_It really is such a shame that I never lie; it was pointless of him to watch for untruths from me._

_But, the man sitting in front of me was not called the World's Greatest Detective for no reason, and I had to remember that, despite his attempts to put me off-balance.  
_

_I smirked, acting like I hadn't seen his mask (if not seen through it), acting like this wasn't the moment I'd been waiting for since the day B left. "Because A's so-called suicide is the catalyst for this whole shit-storm," I told him, gesturing vaguely around the room. At L's reluctant nod, I asked, "Is A alive?"_

_A slight pause, weighing his options. "Yes." My heart stopped for a moment before speeding up immensely. He was telling the truth. That changed _everything_ in my plans, but I couldn't bring myself to be irritated at the fact. "Is Beyond aware of whatever plans you have?"_

_I couldn't let it show that he'd shocked me; it would only give him an advantage. "No. Why did you cover up his disappearance?"_

_"For his, my own, and the other orphans' safety. Are you behind the countries' refusals to help me in my cases, or are you merely aware of the cause?"_

_"Explain. I am the ringleader, and there are no accomplices."_

_L studied me for a moment, calculating and considering his next words carefully. "You tell me why the countries are ignoring me, and I'll tell you what happened to Alternative."_

_And then the real staring contest began. I was actually surprised that it had been delayed so long, considering both of our enormous amounts of pride and stubborn unwillingness to admit defeat or back down. The staring went on for what might have been minutes or hours, neither of us blinking. Both studying the other, watching carefully for and signs of faltering. At length, I sighed in defeat. "This is going nowhere. Alright, I'll bite; what's to stop you from calling in your backup as soon as I've told you?"_

_The world's three greatest detectives looked thoughtful as he bit down slightly on his thumb (two actions that shouldn't have logically gone together, yet he somehow managed it). After a moment, he declared, "I suppose you have no way of knowing. But C has been unusually accepting of my answers thus far; you are either dangerously trusting or incredibly skilled at reading people. This in mind, I promise not to summon any form of backup until we've reached a resolution."_

_"Does 'C attacks L with intent to kill' count as a resolution?" I asked bluntly, ignoring the unasked question of why I was trusting his word._

_"Yes," he answered with equal monotony, though there was a slight quirk to his lips as he said it._

_"Hn. Alright, I'll go with it. But if you go back on your word, you know this will inevitably devolve into violence."_

_"Of course."_

_And so I spun a tale of my adventures over the past year or so, listing off a few of the people under my command (only the people he likely already suspected). And, I have to admit, there was no small amount of prideful cheering and gloating going on in my mind, though my voice stayed level and blank._

_By the end, L seemed somewhat dubious. "You traveled to close to twenty of the most influential countries in the world and found sufficient blackmail for their major leaders, all in under two years?"_

_"It was almost pitifully easy. I'm surprised you haven't done the same."_

_"I see..." L blinked owlishly at me before prying, "I'll admit; I'm curious. What did you hope to accomplish with this?"_

_I looked up at the ceiling in thought. "Hn. If my assumption that you had somehow caused A's death had been correct, I would have sent an email containing your true name, face, and base of operations to all of my many contacts. But if A is alive," I shrugged, "I'll have to know the circumstances of A's disappearance before I decide my new course of action." The threat was thinly veiled, but I needed to know what happened to A. Now that I was so close to getting to the truth, I wasn't going to deal with that 'beating around the bush' shit.  
_

_L was unfazed. "Yes, it does seem to be my turn to tell a story. But, how did you discover my name and get a picture of me without me noticing?"_

_"B knew, somehow. You'd have to ask him," I answered without technically lying. "And are you aware that you and B look remarkably alike? A bit of photoshop for the eyes, and you're twins."_

_"Ah. Then, what do you want to know about A's disappearance?"_

**A/N: Aaaand we're almost to the (heh) conclusion! Only one more chapter after this (plus maybe an epilogue). **

**I'm worried; is the dialogue with L believable? Are L and C in character? Put two stubborn, childish, semi-insane genii in a room together and I don't think they'll get much negotiations done, but I tried my best.**


	5. Chapter 5

**10/17/13**

**A/N: If I owned Death Note, L would have tripped Light with the handcuffs at least once.**

If what L said was true (and, shit, it had to be; I'd heard it, after all), then all of my plans had to be rewritten. According to the asshole (was he really such an asshole though?), A had finally snapped. The weight of his empathy had finally made him crack under the pressure. Of course, L didn't know this, and assumed it had been because of the pressure of being the next L. The day it had happened, A had sunk to a level of psychotic murderousness that would have put B to shame, had he been there to witness it.

He apparently got the biggest kitchen knife he could find and used it to threaten one of the other orphans, a girl called G (who had been rather heavily depressed at the time, I noted). All the while, he was screaming about colors and how he wondered if they'd rot along with her, until Wammy was finally forced to shoot him in the arm to subdue him.

After a week or so in a medically induced coma (which wasn't necessary by any stretch of the imagination whatsoever, but L wanted to know if his subconscious would begin repairing itself while he was comatose), A woke up, but he wasn't the same. From what L said, he was still the same energetic, bubbly kid he'd always been (my words, not the asshole's, obviously), but it was like those qualities had been turned on to overdrive. I mused that his subconscious, rather than attempt to fix his shattered psyche, simply got rid of his empathy and any thoughts related to it, locking them away in some far off corner of his mind.

Naturally, L couldn't send A back to Wammy's, especially as he had already announced the incident as a suicide, so he went ahead with the plan he had set when it was assumed that A was going to stay murderous and incapable of rational thought (hence the 'suicide' announcement).

He shipped A off to an insane asylum.

...-...-...-...-...-...

_"So, what now? I have that email to not-so-subtly threaten you with, and you've got A hanging over my head, so there isn't much we can do to each other," I commented, sipping on my soda._

_L's thumb was once again in his mouth as he replied, "And you know I can't let you leave now that you've admitted to your criminal activity."_

_"Yes, I'm aware. Now, to start off the negotiations: B. He essentially has your face, meaning anyone who knows your appearance could do the same thing I've done and send it to the right people, thereby ruining a key part of your anonymity."_

_"And what do you propose I do about it?" he asked, though we both knew he'd already realized what I was going to say and was merely humoring me._

_"I want you to get all of the photos of B—and I know you can do that, easy—and change his face enough that it doesn't look like the same person. And I want you to move him from whatever mental institution or prison that you have him at and put him in the same facility that A is in."_

_"Why?" he asked simply._

_I glared at the asshole, despite the need to be in his good graces in order for my plan to work. "You've ruined both of their lives; you might as well do this to make it up to them." Actually, L hadn't had much (if anything) to do with A's loss of sanity, but if I could somehow guilt him into doing this, I'd use all of my advantages in order to do so. "And I'll tell you where the computer is that contains the email, as well as give you a list of all the dirt I have on various political leaders throughout the world. You'd be an idiot to pass that up, and it's not like you'd loose anything by it."_

_L seemed to be considering it, which I took as a good sign. "And," he said slowly, "what do you suggest I do about _you_?"_

...-...-...-...-...-...

Somewhere in the world, a mental patient in St. Wammy's Home for the Criminally Insane (which wasn't actually the name of the place, but two out of three of the hospital's most important patients called it that, and it sort of stuck) sighed and set down a small black book in which a story had been written in messy handwriting and slowly stood up, joints popping nicely from sitting in the chair for several hours. "Shit," the person muttered, "That took longer than I thought. Why I wasn't interrupted by anyone...?"

As if on cue, a second patient ran up to the first, chirping, "Chris-y! The nurse says I can't go visit Byron without you, but she told me to leave you alone until you stopped writing, so will you come now? Please?"

The first patient (who, despite the other's attempts to feminize the name, went by Chris because "that alias is long as shit and I refuse to answer to it. You can't make me answer to it, asshole") didn't know how an almost-twenty-year-old man could still speak and act like an over-excited child who'd just been given puppy, but supposed it was just how he was.

The one formerly known as C smiled fondly at the childish man and ruffled his hair. "Sure, A, we'll go see B. And how about I tell you both about the time I almost ruled the world?"

The young man whom the nurses knew as Avery Adams seemed to become calm and serious for a moment, as if he knew exactly what his childhood friend was talking about and what it meant, but then his smile reappeared and he singsonged, "Race you to B's room!"

**A/N: READ THIS BEFORE LEAVING!**

**This fic is done, but because I noticed a gaping plothole a while back that I can't fill in while using C's POV, _there shall be an extra chapter after this one._**


	6. Another Note From B

**10/24/13**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Death Note, Misa would have been way more likeable and pitied at the same time, and everyone would hate Light for using her like that.**

Alright, I don't have much time before C gets back from walking around with 'Avery'. What a stupid name for an alias; I bet L only chose it because it starts with 'A'. Still, it's better than _Byron_. Urgh, if L wanted some sort of childish revenge, he could have chosen something less painful. I'm B, in case you hadn't deducted. I know that whoever will read this will have either already read that Mello brat's book about my case, or be entirely confused at this point. Hmm, I should say something that will _really_ confuse people who don't know about my case... Ah, I know. Backyard Bottomslash's left arm was never found. Kyahahaha! But anyway, this little letter is for those who already know about me.

You know about my eyes, so you've probably realized that I never told A and C everything about them. I never told them about the death dates, but _you_ know, don't you?

So here's the thing; I wasn't at Wammy's the day A snapped. I wasn't there, because I was sitting in the forest near the orphanage, contemplating scratching my eyes out. I wasn't there, because written in bright red, right below the name Alex Ashbrook, were numbers that slowly ticked down to zero. I wasn't there, because A had only _hours to live_.

And how does one look into their best friend's eyes and smile, all the while knowing they'd be gone soon, possibly within minutes?

So I thought A was dead by suicide, and there was really only one person I could logically blame: L. I'll openly admit, I wasn't the sanest during that time-frame, (and I haven't gotten much better, as you can most likely guess) so it's pretty obvious why I lost to L. Even if it still pisses me off. Do you know how hard it is to track down three people whose initials fit the criteria _and_ whose death dates are close to the correct days? Don't even try to say I failed; that in itself was a bigger success than anything _you'll_ achieve today. That Misora woman was smarter than I gave her credit for.

But anyway, you can imagine my surprise when, while I was plotting how to take over the world (That's a _joke_, obviously. World domination is C's job) in my cozy little prison cell where I'd been kept ever since my burns had healed enough to be released from the hospital, heavily armed guards showed up with orders from _L_ of all people, to escort me to some mental facility.

And imagine my even greater surprise when, lo and behold, there were A and C standing there and smiling conspiratorially.

A!

And when I looked above his head, expecting to see the familiar name of Alex Ashbrook, you should have seen my jaw drop (mentally, of course. I would never do something so pathetic in front of L's cameras).

A.

Not Alex Ashbrook. Just A. Just one crimson letter above an entirely new death date, one that would last well into old age. But it was completely, undeniably A! And when C told me of how the final third of our trio had bribed L into bringing us all into one place, I tried to fit all of the new information into some semblance of sense.

But it never really did, and to this day, it still doesn't.

I theorize that Alex Ashbrook died that day, and was replaced by the person who simply goes by A. And he _has_ been a different person since then, in some ways. His empathy is, as far as C and I can tell, completely gone, and all of the memories related to it seem to have followed its lead. Shut up, don't even say it. _I know_ he didn't really die, so his name and death date shouldn't have changed. I know, and it doesn't make any sense. But A is alive, so I don't particularly care _why_.

Genius though I am, and though C is, and though A was, none of us can completely add up what happened, or why we were each born the way we were. Eyes that see emotions, a built-in lie-detector, and the eyes of a shinigami. It's no wonder we all ended up in St. Wammy's Home for the Criminally Insane.

Kyahahaha, it sounds like the start of a joke. A serial killer, a blackmailer, and a former empath walk into an insane asylum...

_They never leave_. Kyahahaha!

**A/N: I find it slightly disturbing how easy and fun it is for me to write from an insane person's point of view.**

**Whelp, that's it for this story! I know it's not very long, but my main goal here was to actually _finish_ a multi-chapter story, so mission accomplished! Thanks so much to anyone who read, reviewed, favorited, followed, fangirled, etc.! You guys are the best!**


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